"Because--she 's very ill-favoured. A bit puny." "You don't say so! And has no one except them come hither?" "No one. Who should come?" "But that cannot be!... I ...." "Eh, master! there 's no end of talking with you, apparently,"--retorted the old man with vexation.--"Whew, how cold it is! Good-bye." "Stay, stay .... here 's something for thee...." And I held out to him a quarter of a ruble which I had prepared beforehand; but my hand came into contact with the swiftly banged wicket-gate. The silver coin fell to the ground, rolled away, and lay at my feet. "Ah, thou old rascal!"--I thought--"Don Quixote de La Mancha! Evidently, thou hast received orders to hold thy tongue.... But wait, thou shalt not trick me."... I promised myself that I would elucidate the matter, at any cost. For about half an hour I paced to and fro, without knowing what decision to adopt. At last I made up my mind first to inquire in the village, precisely who had arrived at the manor, and who she was, then to return, and, as the saying runs, not desist until the matter was cleared up.--And if the Unknown should come out of the house, I would, at last, see her by daylight, near at hand, like a living woman, not like a vision. It was about a verst to the village, and I immediately betook myself thither, stepping out lightly and alertly: a strange audacity was seething and sparkling in my blood; the invigorating freshness of the morning excited me after the uneasy night.--In the village I learned from two peasants, who were on their way to their work, everything which I could learn from them; namely: I learned that the manor, together with the village which I had entered, was called Mikhaílovskoe, that it belonged to the widow of a Major, Anna Feódorovna Shlýkoff; that she had with her her sister, an unmarried woman, Pelagéya Feódorovna Badáeff by name; that both of them were advanced in years, were wealthy, hardly ever lived at home, were always travelling about, kept no one in attendance on them except two female domestic serfs and a male cook; that Anna Feódorovna had recently returned from Moscow with no one but her sister.... This last circumstance greatly perturbed me: it was impossible to assume that the peasants also had been commanded to hold their peace about my Unknown. But it was utterly impossible to concede that Anna Feódorovna Shlýkoff, a widow of five-and-forty, and that young, charming woman, whom I had seen on the previous evening, were one and the same person. Pelagéya Feódorovna, judging from the description, was not distinguished for her beauty either, and, in addition to that, at the mere thought that the woman whom I had seen at Sorrento could bear the name of Pelagéya, and still more of Badáeff, I shrugged my shoulders and laughed maliciously. And nevertheless, I had beheld her the night before in that house.... I had beheld her, beheld her with my own eyes, I reflected. Irritated, enraged, but still more inclined to